Generarae
by Chichaco
Summary: AU-The E2 emerges from a wormhole and the crew is saved by Enterprise. While en route to Earth, Malcolm Reed finds that the E2's armory officer, Lt. Andrew Welles, is just not his cup of tea. (And I'm sure you will figure out everything before you finish the first chapter, but remember, it's not the destination, it's the journey.)
1. Chapter 1

Own any Star Trek characters I do not. The Welles family is mine.

I've kicked this story around for quite a while, because I'm OCC about editing over and over and over. So I'm taking the leap and finally posting this; it is completely finished (did I mention I'm a compulsive editor?) So I'll post chapters every few days or so. This has a little action, a little warmth, a little angst, and some warm fuzzies. I don't really write for reviews or kudos, so whether you leave any or not won't bother me.

Also, a HUGE thanks to writer Hopeful Romantic, whose extensive writings about the return of E2 inspired me to take some of her ideas and incorporate them in my writing. Here is a link to her story: "Touching and Touched" [ s/4462984/1/Touching-and-Touched].

In fact, just go read all her Enterprise stuff, it's great!

Also, I was inspired by the story, Tomasu, by Gigi Sinclair, who also wrote about the E2, and expanded on an idea she had.

Anyway, a summary: The E2 emerges from a wormhole and the crew is saved by Enterprise. While en route to Earth, Malcolm Reed finds that the E2's armory officer, Lt. Andrew Welles, is not his cup of tea. (And I'm sure you will figure out everything before you finish the first chapter, but remember, it's not the destination, it's the journey.)

Chapter 1

Lt. Andrew Welles squeezed Mariah's hand as they settled the boys quickly into an escape pod. He kissed her, and whispered, "I'll be with you all soon." Mariah held back her tears, she didn't want him to see her cry. "Don't be too long," she answered. He smiled the smile that always melted her heart. "As soon as Captain Lorian gets down here," he assured her, "I'll be on the next pod with him." He took one last look at his three small redheaded sons, the smallest in his mother's arms. "Take care of each other," he smiled at them reassuringly.

Captain Jonathan Archer had been shocked, as had his entire crew, to hear that the other Enterprise had burst through a portal near Andoria, and Shran had led the mission to gather the escape pods as the old ship finally started to break apart. It had been a year since they'd last laid eyes on their descendants. After their first meeting, Archer's Enterprise had waited a day for Lorian to bring his ship out of the expanse; when they didn't emerge, theories were rampant that perhaps they didn't even exist anymore. But some of the crew had held fast to the hope that E2 was safe, somewhere, after all, their hearts held sweet memories of their other-dimension descendants. Archer had no way of knowing the other Enterprise had exited right after them but had been thrown a year forward in the timeline when they escaped from the past. When the news arrived, Archer sent his ship flying at maximum warp to meet with Shran and help transfer Captain Lorian and his crew to the Enterprise for their trip back to earth. The Columbia also made good time to help transfer the families of the E2 and give them a ride home.

"Mom," Hoodu asked quietly with only a hint of concern in his voice, "where is he?" Now Mariah stood with her eldest son, while they watched and greeted their friends as each escape pod and shuttle was taken into Enterprise's shuttle bay. "Don't worry," she smiled down at him, "he will be here soon." "Maybe he's on the Columbia with Grandma and Grandpa?" Hoodu's voice sounded doubtful. Finally a battered, full sized shuttle docked inside, and she saw Commander Tucker grab the man who climbed out of it. It was Captain Lorian. Her heart soared like a bird at their father and son reunion.

But then she saw his dark blond head emerge from the shuttle, and she grabbed Hoodu's hand. "There he is, see him?" But Hoodu was already shouting at the top of his lungs and pulling her towards the doorway. It seemed an eternity before Andrew flew through that door and grabbed both her and the little boy up in a mammoth hug. "Are you all right?" she murmured in his ear, her hands wrapping around his back, her head buried in his neck. "Mom," Hoodu chided, "of course he's okay, he's here!" Andrew laughed, and hugged them even tighter, tangling his fingers in her long curly red hair that cascaded down her back like silk. "Where are the others–RJ? Dion?" She refused to let go, even though other people were shuffling around them, smiling at the couple. Their entire ship had known their story. "Your sons are fine," she told him, "they're with Fooz and his parents." She reluctantly pulled away from him, but her hand captured his. "Come on," she started to lead the way, "we've been assigned quarters. They're small, but they'll be more than enough for the few weeks it will take us to reach earth."

Mariah was right about the size, Andrew realized as he looked around the room. There was a double bed, and the boys would be in sleeping bags on the floor. It even had a bathroom with a shower. It was the best family accommodations Archer's ship could provide, and they were lucky to have this much room. They would only be here during the night and off hours, he reasoned. All the adults from his ship would be assigned duties, while the children would be in classes or playing in the lounge. Having over 25 children suddenly running around the hallways was a challenge for Archer's crew, but one they enjoyed. They reconnected with their new family members, and seeing their descendants like this filled their hearts with hope for a future that would be more peaceful than the last few years had been.


	2. Chapter 2

ch2

Andrew frowned at the padd he'd been handed. It was the assignment list for his armory personnel. They had been incorporated into the crew commanded by Lt. Malcolm Reed. Andrew's people had been small in number, but they were tough, intelligent, and resourceful, and he had been proud of them as they protected his old ship time and time again. He knew, of course, that this Enterprise had an armory crew that had also worked together for years, and was also tough, intelligent and resourceful. But somehow it didn't feel right that his crew was now subordinate to them. 'Subordinate to Malcolm Reed,' he thought darkly. But after a quick breakfast in the mess hall with Mariah and the boys, he headed down to his first day. It would only be for a short time, he reminded himself. They'd be on earth soon.

Andrew noted that his crew had been split up among the three shifts, and he saw only a couple of familiar faces as he glanced around at the alpha crew coming on duty. Lt. Reed was there, and greeted the 3 new members of the shift. "Gentlemen," he nodded, as he stood ramrod straight in front of them, "it's a pleasure to welcome you to the armory. I've reviewed your information from your ship, and tried to assign you along the lines of your expertise." He sent the other 2 on their way to the torpedo bays, then turned to Andrew. "Lt. Welles," Reed acknowledged, and held out his hand. Andrew shook it quickly, then snapped back to attention.

"As you know," Reed continued, "there can be only one armory chief, and one officer in charge of every shift." Andrew nodded solemnly. He'd expected that. "I hope you won't mind too much," Reed looked at him, "that you'll be one of the crew here. I have a 2IC, and since your people will only be here a few weeks, I didn't want to bump any of my regulars, even temporarily. You'll be assigned to the plasma cannons." "Yes, sir," Andrew's voice was clipped. Reed suddenly seemed to stare at him, and Andrew quickly asked, "was there anything else, sir?" Reed slowly shook his head, "no, that's all. You're dismissed."

Andrew worked diligently throughout the day, keeping one eye on his 2 old crewmen while still concentrating on his tasks. He wanted Reed to be impressed by his people, and impressed by him. It was kind of perverse in a way, Andrew thought as he worked, that he wanted to impress Reed while he himself hated the man with a passion.

A few days later, Andrew reported to the gym for training. He knew what was involved; he'd run pretty much the exact same training on his own ship. Most off duty personnel were there, and with his old shipmates added, the gym was crowded. Reed was in charge, of course, Andrew noted with a sigh, and he deliberately chose to stand at the back of the group. "All right," Reed called, "everyone pair up, and let's review our combinations." A MACO stepped up to Andrew, and introduced herself, "I'm Cpl. Cole, sir." They shook hands and began.

Andrew was observant as Cole used all the moves he'd grown up studying, and he was able to easily counter them all. She feinted, then drove in, but he quickly dodged, pushed her away, and struck back. This Enterprise crew didn't realize, he thought, that his crew had not only learned everything about unarmed combat from their ancestors, but had added moves from other cultures over the years as they had waited for their encounter with Archer and his ship. He could sense Cole's growing frustration as he gently tapped her on the chin, and she grabbed him to toss him over her hip. He pushed off with his feet as he felt her lift him, and he wrapped his arm around her and grabbed her by the back of her waist. In mid air, he flipped his legs high over both their heads, and bent his knees so his feet hit the deck first. Then he pushed off again with his feet, his back barely touching the floor, and pulled her over and past him. She landed with a grunt of surprise on her back, and he was on her in an instant, his fist in her face.

It had all happened like a lightning flash, and she stared up at him, astounded. "How did you do that–sir?" she gasped as she went limp. He stood up and took her hand, pulling her up after him. "Leverage," he answered, "and knowing what you were going to do a millisecond before you did it." Her eyes bright, she grinned. "You have GOT to teach me that!" she exclaimed. Two MACOs next to them, who had witnessed the move, stepped up to him. "Hey," Cpl. Chang joined in, "We want to learn that one too."

Andrew grinned. This was something he'd shown his own crew many times. "First, you have to watch your opponent closely, every inch of them. Body language will usually telegraph their next move. The second you feel they're going to start the hip toss, you have to crouch, like this–" he grabbed Cole as if to throw her, then had her bend her knees. "Then–"

"Excuse me," Malcolm Reed had joined the group and regarded them critically. "Just what are you doing?" "Sir," Cole spoke up, "the Lt. was showing us a new move, a counter to a hip throw, and–" "I saw what was happening, Cpl.," Reed's voice was stern. "Perhaps things were different on your ship," he looked at Andrew, "but when we train here, any new moves are run past me before they're taught to the crew at large." Andrew's eyes were cold, and the lines of his face hard, as he returned Reed's glare. "Yes, sir." he responded quietly, controlling his anger. Reed stepped closer to Andrew. "Perhaps you'd like to show me this move," he told the other man, "teach it to me, then we'll decide whether or not the crew should learn it." "Whatever you want, sir." Reed's face was like stone, and his voice low, "Lt. Welles, I know you were the armory and security chief on your ship, but you are here now, and I run things. You need to remember that." Andrew felt his ears turning red, but he came to attention, and answered again, "yes sir."

Reed stepped away and glared at the MACOs. "Unfortunately," he growled, "our time here is over. Perhaps next session Lt. Welles will be gracious enough to lead the training." He gave them all a warning look, then spun and walked away. "Sorry, sir," Cole offered, "Lt. Reed's very territorial about his duties." Andrew shrugged, watching the other man walk away from him. "No problem," he told her, "I overstepped my boundaries." Cole bent to pick up her towel. "Still, sir," she answered, "I'd like you to teach me that flip, maybe sometime when you're free."

"Excuse me, sir,' a new voice cut in as a stocky crewman approached them, "where did you learn Russian Samba fighting?" Andrew smiled at the new arrival. "You must be Michael Rostov," he answered. "Yes, sir, I am. But I've never found anyone on board who was proficient in samba moves."

"When my Captain Archer realized that we'd gone back in the past," Andrew told him as the MACOs listened in, "he issued a ship wide call asking for anyone with skills that would help up survive to step forward. You started teaching samba to everyone." Rostov beamed, "I did?" he asked proudly. "It was very popular," Andrew added, " I'd appreciate going a few rounds with you sometime, whenever you're free."


	3. Chapter 3

ch 3

Andrew carried food trays over to where Mariah sat with the boys. The mess hall wasn't quite as crowded this time of day, so it was easier to feed their rambunctious bunch without disrupting others who were trying to dine in peace. This crew had welcomed the families and the children, but Andrew knew his energetic sons, especially the eldest, could be a handful.

Hoodu immediately got busy stuffing chicken fingers into his mouth while still trying to talk. "Teacher today said I'd be in the 2nd grade on earth, since I'm 7," he said as he chewed. "Don't talk while you're eating," Mariah admonished firmly as she held up a piece of chicken for Dion, who grabbed for it with his chubby fingers. "Mama," RJ chimed in next to her, "what grade will I be in?" he spooned applesauce into his mouth, hoping his parents noticed that he waited to eat until after he'd asked his question.

"Buddy," Andrew answered for her as he lightly rumpled his middle son's amber locks, "you're 4, so you get to go to preschool. I think you will really like it. It's a lot like what you did on Enterprise, only there's an outside to play in with grass and trees and sunshine, and more friends, and lots of toys and games." He smiled fondly at his shy middle son. "Hey!" Hoodu interrupted, "There's Fooz! Hey Fooz!" He frantically waved to his friend with one hand and stuffed another chicken finger into his mouth with the other, then gulped down a large swallow of milk, and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Can I go play with Fooz, then please?" He looked at his little brother. "RJ can come too if he wants!" Mariah smiled at her husband. They were pleased that, although their two older sons were nothing alike, the rowdy older one was always willing to include the quiet younger one in all his adventures.

RJ looked at his parents, and snuggled closer to his father. "Nope, don't wanna," he said simply, and took another bite of his applesauce. "Okay," Andrew looked at Hoodu, "You can go, but stay out of trouble!" Hoodu was off like a flash, joining his best friend Fooz Phlox. The two boys roared out of the mess hall and disappeared.

Andrew grinned at his wife, "Ma'am, your eldest son is a wild man," he laughed. Her green eyes sparkled at him, while she deftly took the fork out of little Dion's hand and traded it for a piece of toast. He waved it in the air, crying, "tose!" then stuffed it into his mouth with both hands. "This one," she fluffed Dion's short red curls, "eats like his father!" RJ regarded both his parents. "Who am I like?" he asked, his little face serious. Andrew slid an arm around the boy's shoulders. "You are a lot like your grandfather," he told him, smiling down at his middle child. He heard the catch in Mariah's throat and looked up at her. "Your parents are fine," he assured her, "they are on the Columbia with Moira and Jack, we'll see them when we get to San Francisco." "Uncle Jack!" RJ cheered, and Dion joined him, "Unka Jack!"

Andrew reported on time for his shift the next morning, only to be beckoned to Lieutenant Reed's office as soon as he walked into the armory. He crossed the threshold and came to attention. He knew Reed was a stickler for military decorum. Reed dropped a stack of padds on his desk, then turned to face the other man. "At ease, Lieutenant," he said stiffly, and Andrew relaxed just a bit, his hands coming together behind his back, his feet separating into a wider stance. "Lieutenant," Reed began, his face a mask of military bearing, "I know this has been difficult for you, after running your own armory, security, and tactical team for over 10 years. But I cannot have you usurping my authority on my ship." He stared into Andrew's eyes, and Andrew noticed again that the two of them were about the same height, a bit shorter than most of the crew. "And that includes the gym during training sessions. If you want to introduce a new defensive move to the crew, you need to bring it to me first."

Andrew stared at a spot just past the other man's head. "So this afternoon," Malcolm continued, "you will report to the gym and demonstrate this new defense against a hip throw to me." Andrew could sense the superior tone in Reed's voice. He knew Reed was the most dangerous man on this Enterprise, perhaps in all of starfleet, and held a black belt in many different forms of unarmed self defense. In fact, Andrew laughed inwardly, he probably knew more about the man than Reed knew about himself. "I will expect you there 20 minutes after you get off duty. Dismissed." Andrew came to attention, then spun and walked away. He couldn't wait.

Reed was there, waiting for him, when Andrew walked in. He watched as Reed warmed up, stretching, throwing a few punches into the air, and Andrew started his own warm up routine. After a few minutes, Reed seemed to take notice of him and walked over, tossing him a pair of gloves. "So let's see that infamous new defense of yours, Lieutenant," Malcolm said calmly, and both men took defensive positions on the mat.

They circled each other warily, until Reed threw the first punch. Andrew slapped it away, and countered with one of his own, but Reed dodged it and thrust a kick towards Andrew's face. Andrew caught the foot as it slid past him, twisted, and shoved Reed to the floor. He immediately leaped back up, fire in his eyes, as Andrew moved back. "You all right, sir?" Andrew asked him, as they came together again. "Quite, thank you," Reed answered icily. He threw a sharp jab towards Andrew's midsection, but changed course suddenly and caught him instead on the jaw, and Andrew staggered back a bit. It stung a bit more than it should have in a friendly session, and Andrew knew it was a warning.

They continued the dance, watching for weaknesses, and Andrew knew that Lieutenant Reed was looking for a way to catch him off guard and throw him. He decided to attack, and he spun into a triple kick, driving Reed back, then he swung with his left fist, hoping Reed would try something, and he did. Reed lunged in, grabbed Andrew's left arm to block the punch, clamped down on his arm, and pivoted, his other hand clutching at Andrew's body. Andrew shoved his feet off the ground as the Lieutenant spun, and twisted his legs just as he'd done with Cole previously. His left hand grasped at the back of Reed's shirt, and as he hit the mat, his feet landed first and he pushed off again, pulling Reed over his body and past it. He could feel Reed tense, and suddenly Reed's right fist exploded into his ribcage. He landed on top of Reed, but with the air knocked out of him, and he rolled off and jumped up, backing away from Reed, who had also regained his footing and stared, grinning sardonically at the other man. "And that," Reed spit out, "Is why I like to see any new moves myself before I teach them to the crew. There's always some weakness to watch out for."

Andrew glared, willing the pain in his ribs to go away. "Sorry, sir, I apologize," he ground out, "I didn't realize we were taking it past a 'friendly' workout, or I would have stopped you from throwing that last strike." Andrew smirked at his superior officer. "Is that right, Lieutenant?" Reed's tone was now a little mocking, "perhaps you'd like to try it again?" He grinned like a dog with a bone, and he threw his hands wide, inviting Andrew to take another shot at him.

The gym door flew open at that moment, and Captains Archer and Lorian walked in, headed for the stationary bikes. "Gentlemen," Archer greeted them, and they both drew up in a respectful stance, "I hope we're not interrupting anything." Andrew knew enough about Archer to know he could sense the undercurrent in any situation, and it was obvious he knew that he was definitely interrupting something. Lorian nodded towards Andrew, "Lieutenant Welles, I'm glad to see you and Lieutenant Reed are working together," his voice was mild, but his meaning was clear; he had known Andrew all his life, had watched him grow up, take on a man's duties at tactical, get married, and become a father. He'd worked with him, trained with him, and commanded him. "Yes, sir," Andrew responded, trying not to avoid Lorian's gaze. He was sure Lorian knew everything; and was wondering if Welles had done anything about it.

"If you'll excuse me, sirs," Lieutenant Reed broke his reverie, "I need to get going." He turned his head towards Andrew. "I'll see you in the morning, Lieutenant" He nodded towards the two captains, and walked stiffly out the door. Andrew headed for the gym showers; he did not want to follow the man through the hallways.


	4. Chapter 4

(So I'm guessing you've figured out what's going on here; whether you have or haven't, I hope you are enjoying this story)

Ch 4

The next morning, Lieutenant Reed headed for the armory. There was a full list of work repairs and updates to be finished and he wanted to make sure his team was covering everything. He was also a bit angry at himself for the way he'd treated Welles in the gym the day before. He knew the other man was having trouble adjusting to being just another crewman on the armory staff; after all he'd held the top position on his Enterprise for many years. And truth be told, Malcolm admitted to himself as he traveled through the hallway, the man's record on that ship was exemplary. Welles had saved his ship and crew many times over, often at the expense of his own health and safety. Welles had been as dedicated to his mission as Reed was to his own. The two of them were very similar, Malcolm mused, in their sense of duty and honor. Maybe it was the old case of the two of them being so much alike they wouldn't really get along with each other. Malcolm shook his head as he stepped off the turbo lift. But the man had to accept that on this Enterprise, Malcolm was in charge of the armory, security, and tactical positions, and there would be no exceptions to that, none at all. Malcolm had fought too hard for this duty, and in his heart it stood above all else.

In any case, he reasoned as he approached the armory, in a few weeks it wouldn't matter. Welles and all the other people from the other Enterprise would arrive on earth and he would in all probability never see Welles again. Maybe the man would be assigned to another ship, take command of another armory, and in that Malcolm really did wish him well.

Malcolm automatically straightened his uniform as he walked into the room, expecting to see the crew hard at work. Instead he was astounded to see a few of them standing around the main console, chatting away. "What's going on?" he asked in his stern, authoritative voice as he strode into the center of the knot of crew and glared them all into silence. Lieutenant Quinlon stepped forward, and handed him a padd. "Here are the details of what's been done, sir," he answered. "I think we've covered everything except the forward phase cannons maintenance, and Lieutenant Welles is on that right now." He took a breath. "We thought we'd wait to see what your current orders are before starting anything else."

Malcolm accepted the padd silently, perused the list of work completed, then returned it to Quinlon. "Very good, Lieutenant" he commended him. "I think we're ready to move on to routine maintenance of all hand weapons, and installing the updates we just received from starfleet." He watched for a moment as the crew moved quickly to begin, then he headed to the forward phase cannons.

Lieutenant Welles was on his back, halfway under the right forward phase cannon, his toolbox within easy reach. As Malcolm approached, Welles slid quickly out from underneath; the man must have detected his footsteps, Malcolm noted with approval. Exactly what a good armory officer should do–never let his guard down.

"Sir," Welles jumped up to attention. Malcolm motioned him to relax, and asked, keeping his voice mild and non-threatening, "How's it coming along, Lieutenant?" Andrew still stood tensed, as if he expected an attack, but answered, "It's coming along fine, sir, I should be finished in about an hour." "An hour?" Malcolm questioned, "when did you start?" Andrew's jawline stiffened, "About an hour ago, sir."

Malcolm frowned, "How did you get through all this in an hour?" he asked. Welles allowed himself a shrug, and a smile quirked his face for a moment before disappearing. "Practice and prioritizing," he answered. Malcolm stepped past him to inspect the cannons, and noted that everything was in perfect shape. "Very good," he stepped back, "carry on." He turned on his heel and walked away. Welles watched him go, feeling a perverse pride that he'd both surprised and impressed Reed with his achievements that morning. But it didn't matter, Andrew told himself as he slid back under the cannon and resumed his work. It didn't change a thing to him.


	5. Chapter 5

ch 5

The addition of the children on the ship was both a blessing and a challenge; a blessing because they were physical proof to the crew that their legacy had continued. But it was a challenge to keep them busy, active, and yet out of the way. Lorian finally suggested, and Archer agreed, to let the children have the gym for a half hour each day to continue the physical training they were used to on their Enterprise. It would help them burn off some energy and also work on their skills. The captains put Lieutenant Welles in charge, since it had been one of his duties on the other Enterprise, and the crew was asked to refrain from using the gym during that time.

The next morning, the kids poured into the gym, their shouts and laughter filling the large room. Andrew watched them, and returned their excited greetings as they lined up. He noted that Hoodu was in the front row, with his friends Fooz Phlox and Jeremiah Chang. He waited a moment while the room quieted, then spoke.

"I hope everyone remembers the forms, because we'll start with those right after we warm up." Immediately everyone began stretching their arms and legs, working out the kinks in their bodies. Hoping to remain unseen by Welles or the class, Malcolm Reed slipped inside the gym to stand by the door and observe.

After a few moments, Welles called for attention again. "Let's get started, you should be with your proper level, work through your forms then pair up for practice. If anyone wants to test, come up and see me." He knelt down to the level of the youngest in the class, that included Hoodu and his buddies. "Line up guys, and let's see your first form." The little ones, hopping impatiently like little firecrackers, followed instructions, trying to be solemn and quiet their giggles. Welles walked along the line, correcting stance and position as he moved along, giving encouragement to every child. Reed watched with interest; he could see the ease in Welles; the man was good at this job.

Soon a short line had formed, and, starting with the youngest, Andrew began the testing for those who wanted to move up in skill rank. The first one to advance was Jeremiah Chang, and Reed realized with a start that the child must have been named for Major Hayes. Jeremiah punched, kicked, and struck the upheld hands that Welles offered, and soon the excited little boy was bowing and shaking hands with Welles and received his congratulations for a successful test.

The last person in line was a teenaged Asian girl with jet black hair pulled back in a bun, and Andrew beckoned her forward, "Black belt, Jehda? Come on then, bring it to me." She first demonstrated her knowledge of the correct forms, then she attacked, and they sparred fiercely for quite a while, as the rest of the class watched avidly. They all knew how important this was to Jehda. Finally Andrew halted, they both bowed, and he shook her hand. Her smile lit up the room and she impulsively hugged him, as the other children cheered. Every child who had tested, including Hoodu, was able to advance, and although they received no physical evidence of their achievement, no belt or certificate, they stood proudly with their teacher.

Soon their time was over, and as various members of the crew started to come in for their workouts, the children crowded around Welles to thank him, and Reed noticed how affectionate he was with them all. It really was true, he mused as he watched the children leave the gym, those from the other Enterprise were just like one large family. He approached Welles after the last child had departed.

"That was quite a show," he commented calmly to Andrew, who had known his commanding officer was in the room almost the entire time. "Those kids loved every moment of it, didn't they?" Andrew shrugged, "It gets boring for them being constantly on a ship, they don't have the room to run and play like most kids do on their home worlds. This class always meant a lot to them."

Malcolm walked with him as Andrew headed for the doorway. "It was obvious that you mean a lot to them too," he commented. "Is tae kwondo the only martial arts form you teach them?" Andrew stopped suddenly, and with a frown turned to face the other man. "What's the matter, sir, is this another duty you want to take over?" he asked, his voice threatening. "No, I-" But Andrew wouldn't let him finish, "just let the captain know, sir, I'm sure he'll be glad to put you in my place." Andrew spun and stalked away, leaving Malcolm standing there wordlessly, staring after him.

It seemed to Reed that Andrew was deliberately avoiding him for the rest of that week, and seemed so engrossed in his work that every time Reed tried to talk to him, Andrew made excuses about having something to finish and that he needed to get back to work. Malcolm didn't want to push the other man, but he didn't want the hard feelings Andrew seemed to have towards him to continue. Malcolm also didn't want the efficiency of the armory to suffer, and while the other crewmen didn't let on that they thought the two men were not on best terms, Malcolm did notice the looks he received whenever the crew thought he wasn't looking. Crewman Kemper, one of Welles' men, seemed to be glaring at him all the time, but the rest of the crew knew better than to be caught even speculating about any friction between the two.

It puzzled Reed, because he felt Welles above others should know that Reed's position was both earned and not to be questioned. He wondered if Welles had been any problem to Captain Lorian while on the other Enterprise, and spent some time researching the records from that ship that had survived and were available. But he found nothing to indicate that the man had been anything other than an outstanding and dedicated officer. In fact, Malcolm felt, sometimes it was like reading about himself when he read of Andrew Welles' achievements.


	6. Chapter 6

"You really need to talk to him," Mariah whispered, as she lay in her husband's arms that night in their small double bed. The boys were snuggled up against each other on the floor in their sleeping bags, their even breathing a definite sign they were all sleeping peacefully. Andrew hugged her even tighter, and rested his face against hers. He marveled again how fortunate he had been that, even if he was too awkward and tongue-tied to admit it, she had known right from the start that he was the man she loved more than anything in the world. The gods had blessed him mightily when they created this woman.

He gently kissed her cheek, trying to ignore her advice. She'd heard what had happened during the children's training class, and it was typical that she wanted to find a solution to the problem. Problem-solving was her strongest trait–well, second strongest, he mused silently with a smile, as his hands roamed her satin skin. He kissed her again, and felt her lips press against his. They had so few quiet moments like these on this Enterprise, where privacy was almost unknown. As she pulled away from him, she said, "I know what you're trying to do, Andrew. You won't distract me from this." He smiled, "Really?" He kissed her again, and a soft hum of desire rose from her throat. "You need to clear the air with Lieutenant Reed," she continued. "You can't carry this burden forever."

Andrew lay back against the pillow, Mariah resting her head on his chest. "I know," he admitted, "but I just–I just can't. Every time I look at him, every time we talk, I just want to punch him or walk away, or both." Mariah combed her fingers through the blond fuzz on his bare chest. "You have a couple more weeks onboard, and you may never get another chance. He deserves it, and more importantly you deserve it. You're not asking anything of the man, just telling him the facts." A chuckle rose from him, "you are always right, aren't you?" he teased. She raised her head to look him in the eyes. "I've always been right about you," she reminded him, "from the time I was 12 years old, I was right about you." She rolled over on top of him, and captured his mouth in another kiss.

Malcolm headed for the mess hall for a quick lunch. He'd decided to take an early break from the armory, since he'd skipped breakfast. He didn't expect it to be crowded, since it was well before most of the alpha shift would be there. As he strode through the doors, he noted that a few women and children from the other Enterprise were at adjoining tables, 'like a gaggle of hens with their chicks,' he thought as he grabbed a roast beef sandwich and headed for the drink dispenser. Moments later, plate and tea cup in hand, he spun around to grab a table and nearly collided with two small boys who shot by right in front of him. It was only his acute balance that kept the tea from sloshing to the floor. One of the boys, his red hair shining in the lights of the mess hall, shouted "sorry!" over his shoulder as he sprinted after his friend, who, Malcolm noticed, bore a slight resemblance to Phlox.

'Children,' Malcolm thought as he sat at his usual table, his back against the wall. He watched the two zooming around the room, dodging around tables and other diners, laughing and calling to each other. 'Why don't their mothers make them behave?' He watched as they both slowed down and joined the tables that had been pulled together to accommodate the group of 5 women, each of whom had children either in their arms or sitting next to them. The kids were busy grabbing food, giggling, and poking at each other, and the 2 boys settled into chairs and began to eat. His own parents would have never tolerated such behavior, at lunchtime or any other time. Malcolm had a quick flashback of himself at the same age as those boys, but he was sitting quietly at a table, cringing inwardly as his father berated him for using a spoon instead of a fork. He'd learned at an early age that parents looked at children as burdens, hopeless losers, unappreciative brats who should take a lifetime of abuse and never oppose anything, especially when your father told you to join the navy. Malcolm sighed, shook his head and took a sip of tea to clear those dark memories. They were the reason he never wanted children himself.

As he took a bite of his sandwich and chewed, Malcolm wondered whose descendants the children were. Some of them had obvious physical features; skin, eye, and hair color, facial features, and so on. Some were so boisterous that Malcolm wondered if they had a little of Travis in their backgrounds, while others seemed to sit so quietly and calmly that it was easy to see T'Pol, although he knew that she had had only one child, Lorian, with Trip. He shook himself out of his reverie, it was time to get back to the armory. He picked up his dishes, dropped them in the recycler, and left the room, keeping an eye out for any child-size flying objects in his path.


	7. Chapter 7

As Malcolm returned to the armory, he was happy to know that the ship was making good time, and would definitely arrive at earth soon. The armory was in perfect shape, and he had to admit to himself that the addition of Welles and his crew were a part of that accomplishment. Whatever else he was, Welles knew his job. Malcolm had remembered more than once, the only time the two Enterprise ships had battled each other, when Captain Lorian stole the injectors in an attempt to stop the Xindi's weapon. Welles had been at tach on his ship, and had lost that battle to Reed. Maybe that was the cause for all the...well, he wouldn't call it hatred, exactly, but there was definitely animosity directed at him every time he spoke to Welles. But this afternoon Malcolm was in a good mood when he entered the armory, and was pleased to see everyone hard at work. He made a quick round to check on each individual, giving praise or encouragement as he went.

As he neared the phase cannons, he spotted Welles, a padd in hand, running a diagnostic on the forward cannon. "Good morning, Lieutenant," he greeted the other man, who glanced up at him. "How's the diagnostic progressing?" He looked at the information on the padd Welles handed him and frowned. "Why are the encryption codes on the padd?" He glared at Welles, "they're supposed to stay on the mainframe, that's basic security!" He shoved the padd back towards the other man, folded his arms and waited for an answer.

"I'm sorry, sir," Welles' voice was icy, the 'sir' almost mocking, "we did it this way on my ship, we downloaded the codes temporarily, re-encrypted them, then brought them with us. It increased efficiency and timeliness, and–"

"I don't give a damn what you did on your old ship," Malcolm growled, his voice low but menacing. It was the tone that sent his regular crew scurrying for cover; they knew their chief was one step away from exploding when he used that tone of voice. He was suddenly fed up with the man. "This is MY ship, MY armory, MY security, and MY tactical positions, and you will follow MY rules." Andrew stood frozen, eyes front, staring past Reed's shoulder. "Look, Lieutenant," Malcolm leaned forward into the other man's face, "I understand that you are used to being in charge, I do. But you just can't seem to let it go that your ship is gone, your armory is gone, and you are under my command now, can you? If you cannot accept that fact for the remainder of the time you are here, then I have no use for you on this ship. Is that clear?" Andrew nodded stiffly, "Yes sir," came his automatic reply. Malcolm still leaned in, his eyes locked on Andrew. "Good. You're relieved of duty for the rest of the day, and when you report tomorrow, I trust it will be with an improved attitude. Dismissed." Malcolm spun on his heel and stalked away, while Andrew watched him depart. He looked down at the padd he held, turned it off, pocketed it, and marched after his boss. He didn't speak to any of the crew, who all stole glances at him as he moved, and he left the armory swiftly and silently.

Andrew didn't want to go back to his quarters, and possibly face Mariah with the news that he'd been kicked out of the armory for the day. So he headed for the gym, grabbed some workout clothes from the locker, and tugged on a pair of gloves. Stepping up to the punching bag, Andrew pounded it with ferocity, his fists and feet punishing it as he imagined it was Malcolm Reed he was attacking. He leaped into the air, spinning into triple kicks, picturing Reed's face and body each time his foot struck the bag. Andrew paused for a moment and used the tail of his tee shirt to mop the sweat from his face. He knew he would never attack his superior officer in real life, but his workout was always more intense when he pretended he was fighting the man.

'He's–an–ass,' Andrew thought with each punch he threw, each kick he delivered while flying into the air. 'Not open to any new ideas, thinks his way is the only way,' he slammed a forearm into the bag, 'stick up his ass, just like the Reed on my Enterprise.'

He slammed his fist into the bag again, then released a flurry of punches in rapid fire succession. Of course Reed wouldn't want any advice, or suggestions from him, Andrew admitted to himself. Even though Andrew had held the same position on his own Enterprise under Captain Lorian, and had served at that slot for almost a third of his life, that was all of no consequence to Reed. Time and again, Andrew had protected his captain, his ship, and everyone onboard, at the risk of his own life. He was fully prepared to die at any time to fulfill his duty and protect his people, just as Reed would do here on his own Enterprise. But he was nothing to Reed, and no matter what Mariah said, he would keep it that way. Reed wanted nothing from him, and nothing was what he would get.

But now, he thought bitterly as he backhanded the bag then spun and drove his elbow viciously into it from behind, now he was just another lieutenant assigned to the armory. Captain Lorian knew he hated working under Reed's authority, and Andrew suspected Lorian knew the reasons why–all of them. But his captain had come to him when Andrew, his wife, and their boys were settling in, and asked him to cooperate–at least for the time it would take them to arrive at earth. It was evidence of Andrew's deep loyalty and devotion to his own captain that he had agreed.

Andrew launched into a series of left then right kicks as fast as he could, and didn't hear the door to the gym open. "Not bad," a voice behind him caused Andrew to spin in midair towards the voice, and come face to face with his reason for punishing the bag so harshly. Lieutenant Reed, in a tank tee and sweatpants, had stopped a dozen feet from Andrew, his face a mask of calm. Andrew scooped up his towel and silently made to step around his commanding officer.


	8. Chapter 8

"I could use a sparring partner, Welles," Reed called mildly just as Andrew walked past him. He paused and glanced at Reed, considering. "Just for the practice," Reed continued, as he moved to grab some gloves, "if you're up for it." Andrew nodded, gritted out a "yes, sir," tossed his towel to the wall, and walked towards the center of the gym. They started circling each other, fists up, eyes watching for any opening. Andrew was definitely going to give his boss a workout.

Reed struck first, a jab from the shoulder that Andrew easily blocked, then spun into a back kick. But Reed seemed to sense it coming and dodged quickly out of the way, throwing a kick of his own that Andrew shoved away. Then Reed followed up with a quick flurry of punches that Andrew narrowly blocked.

"You don't like me much, do you, Lieutenant?" Reed remarked as he deftly shoved down a roundhouse kick. Andrew glared but kept silent. "And," Reed continued as he bounced a fist off Andrew's shoulder, "I know why." Andrew faked a power kick, spun, and connected with his other foot, staggering Reed back. 'No you don't know why,' Andrew thought grimly as he moved in to try to capitalize on his strike.

But Reed recovered quickly and grabbed Andrew's arm as he ducked the right cross that Andrew had flung towards his jaw. Reed clamped down on that arm as it shot past him, and he pulled Andrew towards him, spinning him so his back was to Reed's chest, attempting to twist his arm and cause him to fall forward. Andrew stepped back into Reed's body, and thrust his free elbow a little too sharply into the other man's ribs, forcing a grunt of discomfort. Reed's grip loosened for a second and Andrew broke free. He turned to face his opponent, his guard up immediately.

Reed glared at him, the elbow shot obviously harder than it should have been, considering it was supposed to be a 'friendly' session. "You're still holding a grudge," Reed continued, his eyes narrowed and watchful as they circled each other again, "because we stopped you–I stopped you–when your captain stole our injectors and tried to escape."

Andrew's face did not betray the surge of anger he felt as he ducked and blocked Reed's next attack. That fight, between the two Enterprises, had really been a fight between him and Reed, each of them sitting at tactical, firing at each other as the ships careened through space. When his Enterprise finally lost warp power and the cannons were knocked offline, Andrew was ready to break out the phase pistols and arm every person he could, to repel Archer's forces as they boarded his ship. But Captain Lorian had ordered him to stand down, and when Reed led the boarding party to his bridge and removed Lorian under heavy guard, Andrew's humiliation and utter failure at his sworn duty was personal and painful. He had been thoroughly beaten by Malcolm Reed.

His attention lapsed as his mind replayed that failure, and he felt a tap to his jaw as Reed broke through his defenses. Stepping back, he was easily tripped when Reed's foot hooked behind his leg, and Reed caught his arm and twisted it, not painfully, but with a force that pinned him to the floor on his back. Reed was at an angle, gripping Andrew's right wrist with both hands, his left foot braced against Andrew's ribcage. Reed held him tightly, but Andrew still struggled to pull away. "You're going to dislocate your shoulder," Reed commented, continuing to hold him down as Andrew struggled and pulled in a vain attempt to roll away from the other man. "Do you yield?" Reed asked him.

Andrew gritted his teeth. "I never yield, sir," he growled, struggling in the opposite direction, "I fall back and regroup." He could feel Reed straining to hold on to him, and suddenly Andrew flipped his legs towards the other man to add to Reed's backwards momentum, and rolled over on top of Reed, ignoring the short jar of pain that shot through his shoulder. Reed released his wrist and tried to scoot backwards, but Andrew was on top of him too fast, and had a forearm pressed against Reed's throat, his knee pinning down one of Reed's arms, his free hand grasping the other. The two were nose to nose, then Andrew jumped to his feet and backed off.

"I'm done, sir," Andrew muttered and picked up his towel. "Welles," Reed had regained his footing and his voice echoed off the gym walls, "you're a brilliant tactician. If your Enterprise had been in better shape, things might have been different. Andrew glared at him. "Like you said, my ship is gone, sir," he stated flatly. Reed regarded him, then replied, "I'll see you at 0800 tomorrow in the armory, then." He turned his back on Andrew and walked to the punching bag.


	9. Chapter 9

(so...I messed up the chapters and left one out. I think I fixed it-sorry for the confusion.)

"Everyone out!" Reed's voice rang through the armory as the ship rocked and bucked from the force of the fierce ion storm. The lighting flickered and sparks flared and popped around them. "What about you, sir?" Quinlin called, and Reed snapped, "I'll be along, I'm shutting down the firing sequence relays for the phase cannons–damn!" His fingers flew over the keyboard as the smell of burning wires filled the air. "But sir-"Quinlin hesitated. "That's an order!" Reed bellowed, his attention riveted to his screen as the firing sequence relays disconnected one by one. Quinlin paused at the door for one look back at his commanding officer, then joined the others dashing into the hallway to alert a rescue team.

Suddenly Malcolm realized the relays were shutting down on their own, and he looked over his shoulder towards the phase cannons, where he could dimly make out a man working frantically. "Welles!" He thundered, "I gave you a direct order!" Welles held a padd and was quickly tapping in code on the keyboards of 2 different controls, helping Reed neutralize the weapons. "If we take a lot of damage from the storm down here, sir," Welles called, not looking up, "the cannons could activate or explode!" "Dammit, Welles," Malcolm bellowed as he worked, " I'm shutting them off up here! Get the hell out!" "It'll go twice as fast sir–" Malcolm saw red at this insubordination. "I'll have your rank, and your ass in the brig!" He raged as they both continued their fight to save the ship.

The final relay went off line, and Malcolm slid down the staircase and ran towards Welles. The other man was sprinting past the cannons towards him, and they almost reached the door when the room shuddered and tilted, and the ceiling fell in on both men.

The dust settled and Malcolm opened his eyes. The armory was in chaos, and there were ceiling panels and girders everywhere. 'At least,' he realized with relief, 'the weapons didn't activate.' He tried to move and grimaced at the pain that shot through his leg, pinned under a heavy beam. "Welles!" he called, "Where are you?" He heard a weak moan to his right, and Welles's voice was soft, "Here, I'm...here." Another moan echoed through the debris-filled air. "Can you move, Lieutenant?" Reed asked him. "N–no sir," Welles groaned faintly, "too much...on top of me." Reed frowned, listening to the other man's weak reply and gasping breath.

"Hang in there, Welles," Reed urged him, straining to pull his leg free. "The rest of the crew will get to us right away." The ship slowly stopped bouncing around, apparently the ion storm had passed. "Welles," he asked, "how did you have the deactivation codes at your position?" Another weak laugh choked through the air, "I still had the padd from yesterday, the one I used to download the codes and re-encrypt them." "You disobeyed my direct order," Malcolm replied. There was no answer from the other man. "Lieutenant!" Reed called, "talk to me! Stay with me!"

He heard a slight laugh that ended abruptly with a gasp. "It's crewman, remember? You're going to demote me," came the weak reply, "not that it really matters." "Why not?" Malcolm asked, puzzled that a demotion wouldn't concern a man who was so devoted to his duty. "Since no one from my ship was ever really in Starfleet to begin with," came another sharp gasp, "when we get to earth, I'll be a civilian." "You're not staying in?" Reed tried vainly to see the other man through the dust and clutter. "I meant what I said the other day," Malcolm continued, " you're a fine tactician. You'd be an asset to Starfleet, and they'd be lucky to have you." There was no answer from Welles.

He knew that as long as he kept Welles talking, the man was still conscious, so he asked, "How did you decrypt those codes?" "I...designed my own...code," the voice was fainter still. "It's a random generator..." he gasped, then muttered "oh hell, Mariah." The ship rolled again, very slightly, and the gasp turned into an attempt to stifle another groan. Reed called to him, "Mariah? Who's Mariah?"

More debris shifted, and the dust rose up from the floor. "My–wife–sir. We have–3 boys." "You have a family on the Enterprise?" Malcolm was stunned. Why hadn't he known that before? Welles moaned weakly, then in an almost whisper, added, "You do too, sir."

Malcolm tensed and strained to see the other man. "I do too?" he growled, "what do you mean by that?" But silence was his only answer, and he cringed, hoping against hope that he would not have to face the man's wife and three children with bad news. A shimmer seemed to rise up and surround him, and he realized that he was being transported out of the destroyed armory. 'Scrambling my molecules,' he thought, before he let the darkness rise over him.


	10. Chapter 10

Malcolm's leg healed quickly, as did the other cuts and bruises he'd sustained. But he didn't argue when Phlox insisted he stay in sickbay for a few days, something no one who knew him would have believed. He wanted to keep an eye on a comatose Lieutenant Welles, who lay in the next biobed. Phlox had taken the young man into surgery to repair his injuries as soon as he arrived in sickbay. A sharp edge of one of the ceiling panels had caught Andrew right below the ribcage and sliced deeply into his right side, breaking 7 ribs which in turn punctured his right lung. His right hip, arm, and shoulder had also been broken, as well as the fingers on his right hand, which he'd used to cover his head when the ceiling fell. "If he hadn't had the presence of mind to do that," Phlox reported, "he would have suffered more serious head injuries than a simple concussion.

Malcolm met Mariah Welles the first day, as she waited in sickbay for news while Phlox operated on Andrew. When he'd asked her if she had any other family on board besides her sons, she'd told him that her parents, younger sister, and younger brother had been on another escape pod and had been picked up by the Columbia. Malcolm was struck by her beauty, but for some strange reason felt more paternal towards her than anything else. He held her hand, tried to comfort her, and assured her that there was no better doctor than Phlox as they waited for news.

Malcolm was impressed by Mariah's strength and calm, and her utter belief that Andrew would recover. After surgery was over, they sat together in sickbay, watching him breathe, listening to the machines that beeped around him, observing the tubes in both his arms, and the bandages covering his face and side.

But Malcolm had to ask her the question he'd been holding in, the one that wanted to burst from him and explode into the atmosphere. He had given a full report to Captain Archer and the others on the command staff how he and Welles had managed to shut down all the relays to protect the armory, and then made a run for the door. But after the others departed, and it was just Mariah and him, he had to know.

"You know, the last thing he told me," Malcolm finally said softly as he sat next to her, "was that I had family on the Enterprise." He noticed her body stiffen a little, but her eyes never moved from her husband's form, and she tightened her grip on Andrew's hand. "I was puzzled by that," Malcolm continued tentatively, "because I checked the records back when we met your Enterprise last year, and it said I never married or had children." He paused, hoping she would respond, yet unnerved by what he might hear.

Mariah took a deep breath, then turned her bright green eyes slowly towards him, and smiled a little smile. "Lieutenant Reed," her voice was low, "I'm afraid I have no answers for you. It's Andrew you need to talk to, not me." Malcolm stared at her. 'She must know something,' he thought, 'but it wasn't fair to press her when she had so much to worry about right now.' So he merely nodded at her.

"He's a good man," Mariah said softly as she grasped Andrew's hand like a lifeline. Malcolm glanced at her, feeling her pain as she stared at her husband. "Even though," she continued with a small smile, "he disobeys direct orders." "You heard about that," Malcolm commented. "Yes," she turned to look into Malcolm's face, "he disobeyed you, I know." "I gave that order to keep him, to keep everyone in the armory, safe," he replied. "He would have done the same thing on our ship," she told him. "Keeping everyone safe was his number one priority." She returned her gaze to her husband. "When we decided to get married, he told me that he loved me more than anything, and couldn't wait to have a family, but that keeping the Enterprise safe and completing our mission was his sacred duty. He said that meant keeping everyone onboard, especially me, completely safe and protected." A tear trickled down her cheek, and she hurriedly wiped it away. Malcolm knew she was fighting to stay strong. "He said," her voice faltered, "he said he would die for me, for anyone and everyone on the ship, and for the ship itself." "Well," Malcolm put his hand over hers, "it's not going to come to that. Not this time."

The two of them sat quietly, side by side, both regarding the unconscious man on the biobed. She reached up and gently smoothed an errant lock of hair from his bandaged forehead. "He didn't make a habit of it," she continued absently, almost as if she were thinking out loud, "but one of the last things he did on our Enterprise was disobey a direct order-from Captain Lorian."

Malcolm's eyebrows shot up and his eyes flew to her. He himself had disobeyed Captain Archer once, but his commanding officer had been infected by an alien species and was not acting rationally. She smiled at him again. "The two of them were often at odds about the security of our ship, but if Andrew couldn't convince the captain to listen to him, he never pushed too hard. But that last day, when our ship was dying and we were evacuating, Andrew loaded the boys and me onto a life pod, then went back to the bridge; he told me he would be on the last shuttle with the captain."

"When he arrived, Karyn Archer was trying to convince Lorian to leave, but the captain was adamant about staying. Andrew told me the captain insisted that he'd been on that ship for over 100 years and he would not abandon it in its final moments. The captain had a broken arm from falling on the bridge when the ship started to break up, and he refused to get out of his chair and leave. He told them both to get on the shuttle without him, and he made it a direct order. Karyn was practically screaming at him, and Andrew joined her in trying to convince him that losing the ship was not a reason to die. Andrew even asked him, 'how am I supposed to face your parents and tell them I left you behind? If Commander Tucker doesn't kill me, your mother will!' But Lorian was insistent. Finally Andrew grabbed Karyn's arm and acted like he was pulling her away. He looked at the Captain and said, 'I hate to disobey a direct order,' and pulled out a phaser he kept hidden at his post on the bridge, and fired it at Lorian, stunning him."

"He stunned his captain?" Malcolm could picture the entire scene, and while he was shocked that Andrew would commit such a flagrant breach of discipline, part of him knew that he himself would have done the same thing if Jonathan Archer had insisted on dying with his ship. "Yes," Mariah's voice brought him back to her story, "he stunned him, then he and Karyn got on either side of him and dragged him to the shuttle bay. They put him on the bench, and Karyn flew them out-the last 3 people to leave the ship." She shook her head. "Hoodu and I were waiting for him, and I kept thinking, he'll be on the next escape pod, the next shuttle. I kept watching everyone else being saved, and I was just about to think I'd never see him again, then there he was, helping Lorian out the door and into Commander Tucker's arms."

Malcolm studied the face of the young man stretched out on the bed. "Sometimes we have to do what's right, even if it means disobeying orders," he murmured. "A few days later," Mariah continued, "Captain Lorian called Andrew to the captain's ready room, and Andrew went in prepared to face him down for what had happened. He went nose to nose with the captain, but managed to keep his temper. He told Lorian that if he wanted Andrew to spend the entire trip to earth in the brig, he would gladly go, because it meant that he'd done his sacred duty. He couldn't save Enterprise, our Enterprise, but he knew every man, woman, and child on board were safe."

"What did Captain Lorian do?" Malcolm asked. Mariah smiled, "He chewed Andrew out royally for disobeying him, and then said he and his parents were all glad he did. But he said that there might be a payback some day for getting stunned!" She laughed softly. "A few days later Captain Lorian came into the gym when Andrew was working out, and they did some sparring. Even with a newly healed arm, our captain is one strong Vulcan, and he pretty much tossed Andrew off the walls."


	11. Chapter 11

"Lieutenant Reed," Phlox called out cheerfully, "you've been on your feet enough, it's time to get back to bed." Malcolm rose dutifully and slid onto the next biobed. Phlox's smile widened a little; it wasn't often that Reed obeyed him without the slightest protest. "And Mrs. Welles," Phlox turned to her, "You need to get some rest. I will be sure to call you at once if there's any change, but I think I can safely say that Lieutenant Welles is out of the woods, to use a human phrase."

It was another day before Andrew awoke, and the first thing he saw were two emerald-green eyes floating above him, and the sweet smile he'd fallen in love with so many years ago. "Ma...riah?" he whispered, his voice scratchy from disuse. "Shhh," she touched his lips lightly with a finger, "you just rest, my darling. You're going to be fine." "Boys?" he asked, a slight tremor of fear in his eyes. But she smiled even deeper, "they're fine–Hoodu started a game of hide-n-seek in the messhall and scared a group of female ensigns when they found him hiding under their table, RJ is busy drawing pictures of the two of you blowing up asteroids, and Dion has charmed Lieutenant Cutler into becoming both his full time babysitter and probably future wife, if I know my Welles men!" Andrew smiled at that. Her lips brushed lightly over his, and she whispered, "you rest now, and I'll go tell them their daddy loves them."

By the time Malcolm was done with his first day back on duty, it was evening. The armory was slowly returning to normal, and he had marveled more than once how bad it would have been if any of the weapons had accidentally fired. He had been released from sickbay that morning, but he hurried back there as soon as he could, after Phlox had notified him that Lieutenant Welles was awake and alert.

When he stepped inside, he could hear Welles and his wife talking, and Malcolm pulled up short. He didn't want to intrude on their private conversations, yet he didn't want to eavesdrop either. So after a moment, he started whistling to alert them to his presence as he walked to the biobed behind the curtain.

"Lieutenant!" he called, smiling at the couple, "I'm glad to see you're doing better." Mariah beamed at him, 'the woman had a beautiful smile,' he thought. "Mrs. Welles," he nodded at her. She squeezed her husband's hand, bent over and kissed him, and stood up. "I'll leave you two men alone to talk business," she said lightly. Andrew held on to her hand a moment, and replied, "Give the boys my love." "Of course," she smiled again, and stepped past Malcolm.

"Sir," Andrew gestured to the now-vacant chair with his good arm. He sported fewer bandages, Malcolm noted, and his color was much better. "You're a lucky man," Malcolm said, "she's been at your side constantly." Andrew returned the other man's smile. "I am indeed," he agreed, shifting a little in the biobed. "How are things going in the armory?" he asked, and Malcolm nodded, "we're getting back to normal, slowly but surely. Things would have been a lot worse if we hadn't taken care of the relays."

Malcolm sat on the edge of the chair, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped between them. He tried to decide how to ask the question that he had carried since the accident. "Lieutenant," he finally made up his mind, "Do you remember anything of our conversation after the ceiling fell in on us?"

Andrew tensed slightly, Malcolm noted, and saw that the injured man was staring past him, studying the curtain behind his head. Malcolm waited, he didn't want Welles to feel any more pressured than he must already feel. Andrew drew in a deep breath, then winced as his ribs reminded him that they were still sore. "I remember," he finally answered. Both men were silent for a moment, and Malcolm forced himself to be patient. Finally, "I told you that you had family on my Enterprise," Andrew admitted.

"That can't be true," Malcolm was fearful of the answer, "because I checked the records–we all checked them, for information about our descendants–and your data banks showed I died without any children or family." Andrew nodded slowly. "That's true," he agreed, "the records show that." Malcolm knew the Lieutenant was like a dam ready to burst, but it had to happen on his own time. Andrew finally turned to face him.

"Back when the Enterprise first got stuck in the past," Andrew began, "and people started pairing up and starting families, everyone knew there were more men than women in the crew. Some of them met and married other species, and brought their spouses onboard, and we were both a generational and inter-species ship. But some crew never got married, never had children." Malcolm nodded, "like me."

"Yes," Andrew said, "Like you. So Captain Archer requested, and those people agreed, to make DNA donations for Phlox to store, so that we would have a better chance of keeping our future crew healthy. Everything was done anonymously–not even the donors themselves would know if their donation was ever used." Malcolm's eyes widened, "so my DNA was used anonymously?"

He could see the pain in Andrew's eyes. "There was this one kid, whose mother, Dionne, was a MACO. She never met anyone on board that she was really interested in enough to commit to, but she did want a child. So 33 years ago she went to the doctor who had replaced Phlox, and he helped her get pregnant using one of the anonymous donations." Andrew allowed himself a small smile. "She was a great mother, and the boy loved her dearly. When he was 14, though, he started to wonder who his father was. So he started researching the original crew, and after he hacked into the main computer, it was easy to get a list of those men who never had children. Then he started a process of elimination, and narrowed it down to about 12 of the crew."

Malcolm frowned. "He hacked into secure files? Didn't anyone catch him? That should have been a flagrant security violation." "Yeah," Andrew agreed, "but this kid was pretty sharp, and knew how to cover his tracks. No one ever caught on."

"Anyway," he continued, "the next step was a little tricky, he had to look at the DNA sequencing for each of the 12. But he wasn't going to let anything stop him, so he hacked into sickbay records and checked every one of those crewmen, and again managed to cover his tracks. Nobody ever knew he'd done it–Phlox's replacement was not as sharp as Phlox had been. But there it was, staring the kid in the face; his DNA and yours was a 99% match. You were his father. It was logical, he decided, since his own affinity lay in the Armory, in weaponry, and in hand-to-hand combat. Even though he was still a teenager, he was already training for a regular rotation spot on the weapons crew, and was one of the best fighters on the ship, even against the MACOs."

Malcolm frowned. This crewman–

But Andrew plunged on, "You'd think the kid would have been happy just to know that his birth father was a hero of the Enterprise, a man who had saved the ship, it's crew, and the captain many times over, often risking his own life in the process. In fact, on the other Enterprise, Commander Reed had died a hero's death, and everyone who ever lived there revered him. But the boy wanted more, he wanted to really know his birth father, the private man behind the heroic facade. So he went back to the ship's computer, and hacked into the old personal log files, and uploaded every entry Malcolm Reed ever made."

"What?" Malcolm jumped up. "He pried into my personal files?" Andrew laughed softly. "Not really yours, sir, the other Malcolm Reed." Malcolm shook his head, "that's still highly irregular, and he should have respected the 'other Malcolm Reed's' privacy, not to mention starfleet regulations regarding security of personal files."

Andrew sighed. "He was a kid, he didn't care, he had a goal, and he was single-minded about achieving it. But you're right, he should have stopped while he was ahead and been content to know his father was a hero. But he was driven to know everything. So what did he find out about his father?" Andrew's voice took on a tinge of bitterness. "He found out that his father never wanted children, that he in fact disliked children wholeheartedly, and he thought Archer's request for DNA samples was the worst thing he'd ever heard of, although he made his contribution because he would never refuse an order from his Captain. But Reed did make a request, one that was honored, that his sample would never be used to create a child until he was dead. That way he wouldn't have to know about the child, or ever see the child, even if he didn't know the kid was his own flesh and blood. Every time a new baby was born on the ship, and Reed referenced it in his journal entry, he would be adamant about how happy he wasn't saddled with the brat." Andrew smirked, "He did say he understood that the ship needed future crew, of course, to be able to complete their mission of destroying the weapon in the future. But he disliked everything about them, and avoided the children on the ship as much as possible."

Malcolm sat back down heavily. He had known in his heart for a while where this was headed, but he kept quiet, studying Andrew's face. Andrew was looking away from him as he continued.

"So this kid had to face the fact that, if it hadn't been for Archer's decision to collect and store DNA, he would have never been born. His birth father didn't want him, had never wanted him, and had gone out of his way to never have to look at him or ever have even the remotest contact with him. The kid decided that Reed was a selfish bastard who didn't deserve another second of his time. But he determined he would be better than Reed had ever been, at anything and everything Reed had ever done. He studied every word Reed had ever written about the armory, security, tactical, combat training, official reports, memorized it all, and practiced it continuously.

The kid's world was crushed a few years later, when his mother was killed in a fight with the Romulans. He was surrounded by friends on the ship, but felt totally alone. But the McKenzies, James and Lorina, made sure the lonely teen was never left out. Their eldest child was 7 years younger than the kid, and he became like an older brother to all three Mackenzie children. He didn't realize it at the time, but their 12 year old daughter had fallen in love with him and was determined to win his heart. It took 6 years, but when she turned 18, and he was 25, they were married, and he had the family he'd always craved. Their own babies started coming, and he swore that his sons would know their father wanted them, loved them, and cherished them. Whatever Malcolm Reed had been in his private life, this kid would be the exact opposite."

Malcolm listened to the story, with the growing confirmation that he not only had a son, but a daughter-in-law and three small grandsons. By the time Andrew finished, Malcolm was on his feet again, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes wide, every muscle taut.

Andrew was silent, and stared at the ceiling, the curtains, anywhere but at Malcolm. As the words had poured out of him like a raging waterfall, his anger had surged then ebbed, and he felt his hatred of Lieutenant Reed finally dissolve away. No matter how much Reed had not wanted children, Andrew was here, alive, and with his family, and it was because of Reed–at least, the Reed on his own ship, who had been revered yet forever alone, and had died in the course of duty over 80 years ago. Then he felt a hand close over his, and he jerked his head around to look into the face of his biological father, who stood silently next to his bed.


	12. Chapter 12

ch 12

"I–I don't know what to say," Malcolm admitted as he sank back onto the chair behind him, never letting go of Andrew's hand. "Everything you've said is true, I never wanted children–but..." His voice trailed away and he swiped a hand over his eyes. Andrew was stunned; was the man crying? Malcolm steadied himself and looked at the prone figure on the biobed. "I never talked about my family, my own parents, in my logs," he finally said, his voice soft. "I wanted to forget that part of my life forever. I had such a terrible upbringing–my father disapproved of everything I did, everything I said, everything I thought about, and everything I wanted. He and my mother were emotionally distant, and he constantly reminded me of what a disappointment I was to him. The final break came when I joined starfleet instead of the Royal Navy, the career he had chosen for me. I never heard more from them except a note at Christmas after that." He sighed. "I convinced myself that I would never put another child through the type of childhood I had. I would watch children enjoying themselves, playing, romping, laughing, and see how pathetic my own childhood had been. I started to disdain everything that children represented." He blinked, and squeezed Andrew's hand. "I knew I had no business being involved in any child's life, I had no clue how to raise a child, only what I'd learned from my own parents. They'd made their dislike for me so evident, I was afraid..." his voice cracked, but he continued, "I was afraid I'd be the same way."

Andrew felt a lump in his throat, a surge of pity for this man, his father. He'd denied himself the feelings of fatherhood that Andrew himself loved. "It's kind of funny, now," Andrew spoke slowly, "you have a son only a couple years younger than yourself. More like a...a brother than a son." Malcolm raised his head, and looked into eyes that, he realized for the first time, were exactly the same color as his own. "And..." Andrew continued hesitantly, "you have 3 grandsons; one's a wild man, one loves every lady who cuddles him, and one is...a lot like you–and me."

Malcolm smiled. "I would love to meet him, meet all three of them." Andrew tilted his head, "If you meet them, we'd expect–they would expect–you to be a part of their lives. They are very close to their other grandparents, and they would want the same thing with you. You couldn't hurt them, or push them away."

Malcolm's eyes flashed, but he stayed calm. "I would never hurt them;" he said firmly. Andrew pressed on, "You have to be sure about all of this. Mariah is the only other person who knows the truth about you and me–although I suspect Captain Lorian figured it out a while back." He took a cautious breath. "The thing is, sir, it's up to you. Mariah and my sons are my whole life, and I will do anything to protect them and give them the best of everything I can. If you want to walk away from us, I understand, I do. No one else will ever know, and we won't judge you for it." Malcolm started to protest, but Andrew continued, "You have your ship, your life here, and your own future to take care of. The Malcolm Reed on my ship made his choice, and I was," he sighed, "wrong to condemn you for his actions." He turned his head away from Malcolm, but left his hand still in Malcolm's grasp. "I know this is a huge weight to throw on you, sir, so you can take all the time you want to think about it."

Malcolm gently tugged on Andrew's hand, until Andrew turned back, and Malcolm caught his eyes. "I don't need time," he answered resolutely. This has all happened for a reason; you are here for a reason. Maybe you and I are too much alike to ever really get along, but I–" Malcolm looked resolute, "I want to try. I want my family. I want you and Mariah and the boys, 100%."


	13. Chapter 13

ch 13

The hall was filled to capacity and more people were flowing through the doors. It was the largest facility starfleet had in San Francisco, and the only location for the welcome back party for Enterprise and E2, their crews, and their descendants. Added to the crowd were all the highest ranking officers at starfleet, government officials, dignitaries, and representatives from both Vulcan and Andoria. The buffet tables were set up at either end, and groups of diners sat around tables, laughing, sharing stories, and eating. The Columbia had finally arrived two days after Enterprise, and their share of Lorian's crew were disembarking and coming right to the party. Captains Lorian and Archer sat together at a table, along with Commander Tucker, Sub-Commander T'Pol, Lieutenant Karyn Archer, Lieutenant Reed, Lieutenant Welles, Mariah, and their boys.

"Hoodu, stop shoveling it in like you're starving," his father admonished. A huge grin sprouted under the mop of unruly red hair. "But dad," he mumbled around the scoop of chicken parmesan he had just deposited in his mouth, "Fooz and Jeremiah and I want to check this place out–it's huge!" "Huge!" Dion chortled an echo, sitting on his mother's lap and trying to navigate his own spoon to his mouth. RJ was also on a lap, nestled against Lieutenant Reed's chest, his stomach already full, and he knuckled his eyes and yawned.

"That one's going to be asleep any minute," Archer observed with a smile. Malcolm beamed, "Young Reed's had a full day, putting his feet on his home world for the first time in his life." His arms were wrapped protectively around the little boy, who looked up at him through drowsy eyes. "Pop," RJ said, smiling at his grandfather.

"Yeah, Pop," Trip teased him, "can we call you that too?" Everyone smiled. It had been a few days earlier that Malcolm had been introduced to the Welles boys. It was a memory that would stay with all of them forever.

Malcolm was adamant about meeting his family. Andrew had finally recovered enough to be released to his quarters but not back on duty, and they had arranged to meet in the mess hall after dinner. Malcolm had arrived early, and his eyes lit up when Andrew and Mariah led their contingent into the room. He recognized the tallest of the three boys, who ran into the mess hall at full speed, as the young man who'd almost plowed into him at lunch a while back. There was no mistaking that red hair. Mariah led a second boy by the hand, and he seemed to hang back a bit, his eyes darting around the room as if inspecting it–'like any good security officer,' Malcolm thought with a twinge of pride. The littlest of the three was in his father's arms, his smile and dimples flashing.

"Boys," Andrew began as they settled themselves around a table, "you know how Fooz Phlox has a great-grandfather on the Enterprise?" "Yes sir," Hoodu answered promptly, "he's the doctor! He checked me up when we first came on his Enterprise. I like his animals–'specially his bat!" Hoodu was the only one not sitting, he was on his feet at the end of the table, jumping up and down. RJ sat quietly on his father's lap, his big gray/blue eyes taking in his surroundings, and Dion inspected a toy spaceship he held in his chubby hands. 'It was,' Malcolm thought, 'like a quiet type of chaos, full of energy and vibrance.'

"Well," Andrew continued, "we have family on this Enterprise too." Hoodu stopped jumping as his eyes flew open, and RJ looked up at his dad. "Who is it?" Hoodu demanded, before his mother answered, "be quiet and let your father finish." Andrew took a breath and Malcolm noticed that RJ was suddenly staring at him intently. "Boys, this is Lieutenant Reed, and he is my father." "Really?!" Hoodu stopped jumping and grinned at Malcolm. "You're my grandpa?" he asked. "My Grandpa Mckenzie is old, but you're real young!" Malcolm smiled at the boy, then at his son.

Andrew continued, "Just like Fooz's great-grandfather is young," he pointed out, "But it's true, Lieutenant Reed is part of our family." Hoodu leaned on the table and stared up at Malcolm. The boy had his mother's emerald green eyes, Malcolm noticed. "You're our Grandpa? You're in the armory, just like dad! You look kind of like dad too. What should we call you? You–" The adults were all smiling now at the barrage of words tumbling out of the boy. Suddenly RJ's voice piped up, "Pop," he said, solemnly pointing a finger at Malcolm. "You're Pop." There was a moment of quiet around the table. "Okay then, Pop!" Hoodu launched himself at Malcolm, who had the presence of mind to open his arms at the last moment before Hoodu grabbed him in his own version of a child-sized bear hug. Then, "Can I go find Fooz?" Andrew grinned; his oldest son had accepted his new relative and everything was normal for him. "Blast off," he told Hoodu, who promptly shot towards the door.

RJ, meanwhile, had slid off his dad's lap, and was now standing next to his new-found grandfather, and he held his arms up to the man. Malcolm looked taken aback for a moment, then lifted the child onto his own lap, where the boy promptly settled down and rested his head against Malcolm's chest, his red hair tickling Malcolm's chin. Mariah was beaming at the men in her life. "That's pretty appropriate," she commented, "RJ giving you a name like that." Malcolm looked up at her, "Oh really?" he asked. "Because of his name," she continued, "–you gave it to him, in a way, Reed James Welles."

Malcolm's eyes fell again on the small red head he was now holding. "Reed," he said softly. RJ looked up at him, and grinned. "Pop." he answered. "Pop!" Dion echoed, bouncing up and down happily, "PopPopPopPopPop!"


	14. Chapter 14

Ch 14

Trip Tucker grinned at Malcolm, and repeated his request, "Can we call you Pop too?" Before anyone could answer, RJ roused himself to look solemnly at Trip. "He's MY Pop, not yours," he said bluntly. Amid the laughter, Archer added, "I guess he set you straight, Trip!"

Hoodu came racing up to the table calling his mom as he ran, and she spun in her chair to see what looked like a speeding plate of food rushing towards her. Hoodu was splattered with almost every type of edible left over from the buffet, from his head to his feet. There was potato salad on his chest, gravy dripping from his hair, chicken parmesan sauce on one sleeve and roast beef juice soaking into the other, and bits of potatoes au gratin were stuck to his pantlegs. "Mom!" He hollered, "Mom!" He skidded to a stop, the adults staring at him. "Hugh Andrew Welles," his father stood up to glare at him. "You've been in a food fight!" Hoodu grinned unabashedly. "Fooz started it!" He protested, bits of food and gravy dripping to his feet as he jumped up and down in excitement. "It wasn't my fault," he continued full speed, "Fooz ducked, and I–"

"Does this young man belong to you?" A deep voice behind the boy caused every eye to look into the face of the man striding up to their table. Everyone stood and came to attention as Admiral Forrest, also covered in food, arrived right behind Hoodu, who had the grace to now look a bit ashamed. But the boy stood his ground as he faced the tall Admiral.

Andrew took a breath, and answered, "yes sir, he's my son." "Sit down, everyone, please," the Admiral commanded, and he grabbed a vacant chair. "I should have guessed, with his red hair, that he belonged to all of you." The Admiral smiled. "Sir," Andrew tried to continue, "I am so sorry, Hugh knows better, he–" The Admiral reached out to ruffle Hoodu's hair, then looked at the gravy now smeared on his hand, and laughed out loud. "The boy has a great aim!" He told them.

"I wasn't aiming at you, honest," Hoodu was nothing if not bold. "Fooz started it, he really did," the boy glanced around the table. "And I was gonna hit him back, and I used the trajectory thing that Pop showed me–" "Pop?" Forrest asked, as all eyes riveted to Malcolm. "I am his grandfather," Malcolm admitted.

"I should have known," the Admiral replied, "The boy's a steely-eyed armory man for sure." "I didn't think Fooz would duck so quick," Hoodu continued, his voice rising, "and I sure didn't know you were behind him." "Got me right here," the man pointed to his chest, where the remains of a large sticky spoonful of green beans amondine still stuck.

"What about the rest of your uniform?" Jonathan Archer grinned at his old friend. "Well," the Admiral answered, "I couldn't let the attack go unanswered, could I? I had to retaliate!" Hoodu grinned, "You should have seen it dad, a bunch of us were throwing stuff, and the Admiral got us all!" He grinned back at Forrest, "you got really good aim, sir!"

"Oh, Admiral," Mariah said softly, "your dress uniform." "No worries," he waved her concern away, "I've already sent my aide to retrieve the spare in my office." Mariah stood and handed Dion off to her husband. "Hugh Andrew, what do you say?" Hoodu stood at the Admiral's side, and looked into his face, "Sir," the boy began, "I'm really sorry, and if you want to punish me or tell my dad how to punish me, I'll do whatever it is." Admiral Forrest looked into the big green eyes that were suddenly so serious. "Your punishment, young man," the Admiral stood up to tower over the boy, and pulled out his deep, serious voice. Hoodu stood fast, craning his neck up to keep eye contact with the Admiral, "your punishment is to obey your parents and grandparents, work hard in school, and bring that trajectory talent to starfleet someday. You're going to make a fine armory officer."

Hoodu grinned, "Oh, no I'm not!" he said adamantly, "I'm going to be captain of the Enterprise!" He pointed at the half-awake RJ. "My brother's gonna be my armory officer, he likes explosions!" RJ grinned sleepily. "Big 'splosions!" he echoed. The table erupted in laughter, and Mariah grabbed Hoodu by the arm. "Come along with me, 'captain,' and let's get you cleaned up and halfway presentable again." There were no complaints from her oldest son as they marched off the to the restroom.

"Lieutenant Welles," the Admiral returned to his seat and turned to Andrew. "I've been wanting to meet you." He glanced around the table. Andrew felt a little twinge of nerves. "You have, sir?" "Yes, in the past 2 weeks I've received three different letters of recommendation concerning you and your abilities. Each letter writer has urged me to not let starfleet lose a man of your talent and experience." Andrew stole a quick glance at Malcolm, whose face was a mask, but his eyes held a twinkle as he quickly ducked his head to look down at RJ. "I'm sorry, Admiral," Andrew answered, "But I'm not going to stay in starfleet. My family needs me, and we want to raise our children right here on earth."

The Admiral smiled, "I can understand that completely. However, you don't have to ship out into the universe to stay in starfleet. We could definitely use you right here in San Francisco, in Research and Development, the weapons and defense division." Captain Lorian spoke up, "Andrew, that might be just the thing for you." "Yep," Captain Archer agreed, smiling broadly, "it sounds perfect." Andrew's suspicions about the authors of those 3 letters was now confirmed.

"You'd keep your present rank, of course," the Admiral continued, "and we have large quarters for officers' families, right on the base. We have schools, parks, shopping, and lots of extras for children and families." The Admiral put his hand on Andrew's shoulder. "I saw that random code generator you created, the one that can be tailored to whoever is using it. Pretty ingenious." Andrew looked again at Malcolm, who gave him a little smile and a shrug. "That's the kind of thinking we need in R & D, if we are going to build our fleet, and provide the best for our crews. Think about it, Andrew, talk to your wife–"

"Talk to me about what?" Mariah walked back to the table, with Hoodu in tow. He was considerably cleaner than before, although his shirt still showed a stain, and his hair was wet. The Admiral stood up, and offered her his seat. "Your husband can tell you all about it," he answered, "I need to get back to the stuffed shirt dignitaries I have to make nice with." He looked at Hoodu, "You clean up pretty well, young man. The first order of a starfleet captain is to look sharp." Hoodu snapped to his version of attention, standing as tall as he could, beaming at the praise. "Enjoy the rest of the evening," the Admiral called out as he walked away.

"Mom," Hoodu began, but Andrew shook his head. "I think you've had enough excitement for tonight, come over here by me." Hoodu sighed but did as he was told. "Talk to me about what?" Mariah repeated. Somewhere music began to sound over the crowd, and couples moved to the center of the room to start dancing. Captain Lorian took Karyn Archer by the hand, and Trip also led T'Pol away. Captain Archer decided it was a good time to leave the family alone to discuss things, and he also excused himself.

Mariah stared expectantly at her husband. "The Admiral," Andrew began, "Wants me to stay in starfleet and accept a job here in San Francisco in their Research and Development department." Mariah's eyes widened and a smile rose on her lips. "You wouldn't have to be posted on a ship?" she asked. Andrew shook his head, "no, and we'd have an apartment on the base, and the kids could go to the school right there, and–" "And it sounds perfect," Mariah finished. She took his hand in hers. "I know if you had your druthers, you'd be on the next ship out of here." He started to protest, but she kept talking. "But you belong with us, and we belong with you." He leaned over and kissed her, causing Hoodu to giggle. "So," she continued, "This would be the best of both worlds, wouldn't it?"

"I agree," Malcolm spoke up. "We need you in starfleet, Andrew, and this is a perfect opportunity." Andrew smiled at his father. "Thanks for recommending me," he said, and Malcolm grinned. "We need the best," he said simply, "And you're the best."

Suddenly Dion started squealing, and he wiggled out of Andrew's lap. "Unka Jack! Unka Jack!" The toddler scampered towards a young man who was speeding towards them, and he leaped into the man's arms. Malcolm noted that the new addition had fiery hair that matched his daughter-in-law's. "Hey pal!" Jack grabbed Dion and tossed him into the air, then set him down to grab Hoodu next, who had launched at him. Mariah was being hugged tightly by a young woman who could have been her twin, and Andrew was shaking hands with an older man, while the lady next to him picked up Dion and gave him a big hug. The McKenzies had finally arrived from the Columbia.

"These are my in-laws," Andrew made the introductions, as everyone shook hands with Malcolm. "My brother-in-law, Jack," Malcolm noted that the boy looked barely out of his teens, "and my sister-in-law Moira." Moira's smile seemed to pour sunshine into the room, and her green eyes sparkled as she shook hands with Malcolm. She had taken the seat right next to him. "I can see the resemblance," she told him, "Andrew has your eyes, and your cheekbones."

Lorina McKenzie smiled, "It's wonderful to meet you," she added, "Andrew never let on that he knew who his father was!" She was holding Dion now, and her husband had pulled his chair up and had his arm around her shoulders. Hoodu had claimed his Uncle Jack in a tickle fight, the both of them wiggling and hooting. "It was a shock to me, too," Malcolm conceded, taking in the boisterous family that surrounded him. He still held a now-sleeping RJ on his lap. "But a lovely shock–a blessing I never expected to have," he added with a smile, as he tried to tear himself away from Moira's eyes. He didn't notice Mariah nudge Andrew and exchange a quick knowing look with him. Moira reached out to gently stroke RJ's hair, then let her hand brush Malcolm's arm, before letting it rest on the table next to his hand. "This is the best thing that's ever happened to me," Malcolm continued, "I'm a father to a son, and a grandfather to 3 beautiful boys."

Mariah laughed softly, and nudged her husband's hand. Andrew cleared his throat, and beamed at his wife. "Actually, sir," he spoke as he gazed into his wife's eyes, "you will be a grandfather to 4 children before the year is out, and this one's a girl."

The noise from this announcement woke up RJ, who frowned and looked around him, then grinned at his Aunt Moira and held his arms out to her. Malcolm transferred the boy to her lap, all the while staring at Andrew and Mariah. The older McKenzies laughed and cheered, and James patted Andrew on the back. Moira's face sparkled with delight, while Jack tickled Hoodu even more and they both chortled.

Malcolm could only stare at his son, and the woman his son had chosen to spend his life with. This was his family, he told himself, and it was growing and thriving. "Sir?" Andrew asked, "...Dad?" Malcolm reached across the table to seize Andrew's hand. "Son."


End file.
